Truth and Consequences
by frostygossamer
Summary: A pentothal revelation intrigues Dean. T for silly Wincestiness.


Summary: A pentothal revelation intrigues Dean.

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Truth and Consequences by frostygossamer

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Dean kicks down the door of the office of an abandoned warehouse and raises his gun to eye-level. A quick scan around the room reveals no one but Sam. He's tied to a chair with enough rope to hold down a Yeti.

"Thank God you're here", Sam exclaims.

"Where's Macavity?", Dean asks warily.

"Oh, he's long gone. Sorry, Dean. He gave me a shot of sodium pentothal. I told him everything. Couldn't help it".

"Yeah, well. Figures", Dean remarks, untying Sam's hands.

"You told him where to find the artefact?" ... "Yeah".

"Did you tell him how to solve the puzzle?" ... "Yeah".

"And where he had to be exactly to use it?" ... "Yeah, and plenty more".

Dean pauses from untying Sam's ankles. "Like what, as if that wasn't enough?", he asks.

"Honestly?", Sam hesitates, willing the pentothal to wear off faster. "I told him you have a great ass and I've always longed to touch it", he says apologetically.

Dean's eyes widen. There is an awkward silence. Unfortunately the drug makes Sam feel compelled to continue.

"And I told him that I'd really love to bite that ass. It's like a huge luscious peach", Sam hangs his head regretfully.

"Peach? Crap!", Dean mutters under his breath and tries to shake that thought out of his head.

He coughs and starts to bend over to retrieve Sam's knife from the floor, but he stops and turns to face Sam, denying him a view of his rear, before picking it up.

He begins to saw through Sam's remaining bonds, wondering if it's safe to release his brother in this condition.

"It's the pentothal...", Sam explains inadequately.

"Yeah, sure", Dean replies, ushering him out of the room first, just in case.

"We're gonna forget this conversation", Dean states, trying not to look as weirded out as he feels.

* * *

A couple of days later and neither of them have mentioned that incident again. But, strangely, Dean has begun to think about his ass all the time. Every time he passes a mirror or window he is tempted to check out his profile in the glass.

One morning Sam comes back while he is studying his ass in the motel bathroom mirror and he damn near catches him at it. Dean pretends that he had seen a spider on his back and stamps around the floor as if to crush it. Sam looks at him like he's crazy.

One evening Dean is making out with a pretty blonde against a wall, As he kisses her she squeals and squeezes his butt cheeks. Dean pauses.

"Great ass, right?", he asks.

"Oh yeah, honey", she laughs. "Like I'VE been looking at YOUR ass all night".

Dean begins to think that one-nighters don't pay proper attention to his best assets. Obviously they're too centred on their own pleasure to appreciate his great ass. It's wasted on them.

So, that night Dean is lying in bed trying to sleep. He rubs his hand over his own ass cheek, under the covers. "Now that sure is one great ass", he thinks. He glances over at Sam's bed where Sam is sleeping peacefully.

"I wonder", Dean ponders. "I wonder how it would be to let Sam feel my ass. I know that HE knows a great ass when he sees one".

That out-there thought swims around in his dreams all night.

In the morning Sam wakes up and gets straight out of bed. It's his turn to go get breakfast. After he dresses he glances over at Dean's bed and notices that the covers have sliped off Dean's left butt cheek, which is clothed only in a thin pair of cotton boxers.

Sam approaches the bed hesitantly. Dean doesn't move, clearly fast asleep.

Biting his bottom lip, Sam stoops, extends his right hand and ghosts it slowly over the plump protrusion, almost but not quite making contact. He sighs, straightens up and leaves the motel room.

Dean stops pretending to sleep. "Oh crap!", he gasps, the warmth of Sam's hand felt awesome but his butt remains perfectly untouched.

Curiosity is getting the better of him. He can't stand it anymore. He has to find a way to get Sam and his ass together.

* * *

Finally they catch up with Macavity. After midnight they return battered to their motel, with the artefact.

Dean enters the motel room and sits on his bed, setting the artefact on the bedside table.

"I think I've strained my freakin' back", he fibs, stretching his spine and wincing.

Sam tuts, picks up the artefact and stuffs it in his duffel bag. He stands and studies Dean for a moment.

"Want me to give you a massage?", he asks, expecting the usual rebuke.

"Sure. I was just gonna ask", Dean replies, unexpectedly.

He takes off his clothes, except for his T-shirt and boxers, then climbs onto his bed and lies on his stomach. Sam sits on the bed beside him and begins to rub his back in slow circles.

"Farther down", Dean murmurs.

Sam moves his hands farther down Dean's back.

"Lower. Lower", Dean encourages.

Sam hesitates to place his hands on Dean 'below the belt'. He stops rubbing for a moment.

Dean looks at him over his shoulder and smiles. "Go for it, tiger", he urges.

Sam lays both hands on Dean's ass. Dean sighs, happily.

Emboldened by this response Sam slips his index fingers under the waistband of Dean's boxers and pulls them down over his butt.

Sam trails his fingers over each pert cheek and, leaning forward, places a kiss on the very bottom of Dean's spine, just above the cleft. Surprisingly Dean doesn't protest. In fact he purrs a little. Sam squeezes both buttocks like ripe fruit in his big strong hands then he blows on each and kisses it. And then, then he bites into the soft flesh of Dean's right cheek, just enough to make him squeak.

Dean is melting into his pillow. "God this is good. Sam sure knows how to treat a butt right", he thinks.

Sam folds his fully clothed body against Dean's back.

"That's it right? That's all you wanted?", he whispers softly.

"Lose the belt buckle", Dean fusses, wriggling. "It's freakin' uncomfortable".

Sam sighs but Dean squeezes his knee. "We're only getting started, dude", he reassures him.

So, Sam gets to pay the proper attention to Dean's ass all night long, and some improper attention too. Dean's curiosity is finally blissfully satisfied.

"The sasquatch has good taste", he thinks, in afterglow. "And, hey, HE's got a damn fine ass too...!".

The End

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A/N: This came to me after watching NCIS 7x1, but Tony annoys me so I let Dean and Sam play with the idea instead. ;-)


End file.
